Voices at the Door
by Calatoria
Summary: Angry teen Aerin sneaks away from work to give Morwen a hand and some stolen food, and receives advice and mothering for her trouble.


The sound of footsteps approaching the door made Morwen abandon the shirt she was mending. She gathered up Nienor and set her on a bed in one of the back rooms, with her favorite rag doll to keep her quiet. Then she grabbed the old axe that hung on the wall in the kitchen. It was ill-suited for anything other than chopping wood, but Brodda's men had taken everything else that resembled a weapon.

Someone tapped quietly on the door: four knocks, a pause, and then three more knocks. With a small sigh of relief, Morwen returned the axe to the wall and went to answer the door. She hadn't really expected anybody else, but there was never any point in taking chances.

Aerin slipped inside as soon as the door had opened far enough to admit her. At fifteen she was several inches taller than Morwen, taller even than most of the towering Hador women. She wore a threadbare shawl over her head to conceal her long golden hair, and her shabby dress, no doubt a cast-off from someone with a more generous figure, hung loose on her slender frame. Though Aerin was certainly maturing, Morwen wondered whether the girl's body would ever lose the stretched look that came of growing too quickly with too little to eat.

"Meldis let me in at the gate," Aerin said, removing her shawl and draping it over a chair. "I'm sorry I waited so long to visit again. Harvest time means more work for everyone, but it also means more opportunities to take a little extra food without anyone noticing." She handed Morwen the large covered basket she carried. "Flour, dried meat, and some vegetables. I even talked Ailinel into giving me a jar of jam. I told her she could blame me if anyone missed it."

"You are not to take any unnecessary risks," Morwen told her sternly. "It's bad enough that you come out here at all. If they catch you…"

"It would be worth it," Aerin said, scowling. "I like coming here. I don't know what I would do if I couldn't escape the compound once in a while. I'd probably go mad."

Morwen pressed her lips together in disapproval, but said nothing. As much as she hated letting the girl put herself in danger on their account, the five people that remained in Hurin's once-great household would not survive without Aerin's help.

As she heard soft footfalls behind her, her heart constricted. The four adults in the household made sure that little Nienor never went hungry, giving up food of their own if they had to, but without Aerin even that might not be possible.

The small blonde child appeared in the doorway of the room, clutching her rag doll. The lure of Aerin's familiar voice had drawn her out of her hiding place despite her mother's orders, and as soon as she saw their visitor, her face broke into a smile.

"Aerin!" she shrieked, dropping the doll and rushing forward on her short legs, holding out her arms to be picked up. Laughing, the older girl swooped down on Nienor and hoisted her up to rest on her hip.

"Nienor! You've grown so much since I last saw you. How are things around here?"

"It's boring when you don't visit," Nienor said matter-of-factly. Aerin laughed again, and kissed the little girl on the cheek.

"I'll be sure to visit more often, then."

A tiny smile flickered across Morwen's face at the swift change her daughter's presence had wrought in Aerin. "How is your father?" she asked. Indor, though close in age to his cousin Hurin, had been struck blind by the same illness that had carried off his wife and Morwen's first daughter, and thus been spared dying in the war.

"He does fine," Aerin said, rocking Nienor back and forth but turning her attention to Morwen. "As well as can be expected. Ailinel gives him work in the kitchens, and he mostly knows his way about. Sometimes the guards still complain about keeping a useless blind thrall, but none of them have laid a hand on him." Though she tried to sound reassured, her face was pinched with worry.

"I doubt they mean it," Morwen said firmly. "If he keeps his head down and gives them no trouble, they will not harm him." She gathered up the basket and headed to the kitchen, with the two girls trailing behind.

The hearth was cold, as it so often was these days, and the alcove used for storing firewood stood empty. Aerin surveyed the room with concern as she held Nienor, while Morwen sat down at the kitchen table and began to unpack the food she had brought.

"This place looks even more run-down than when I was here last," she muttered, almost to herself.

Morwen gave her a sharp look. "Sador, Ragnir, and Meldis do what they can. I do what I can."

Aerin glanced back at her guiltily. "Of course. I didn't mean to…I'm sorry." She was quiet for a few moments, then said, "I'll chop some firewood for you later. I know Sador has trouble with it."

"Be sure not to wander too far into the woods," Morwen said almost automatically.

Aerin sighed. "No one will see me. They haven't come near this place in years, you know. Besides," she said bitterly, her expression suddenly hard and cold, "There won't be a soul leaving the compound today. Everybody is too busy with…other things."

Morwen could almost feel the anger pouring off Aerin. She laid a hand on her shoulder and turned the girl to face her, looking up slightly so that she could meet Aerin's eyes.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her tone declaring that she would not accept any attempts to dodge the question.

Aerin hugged Nienor more tightly, until the child began to squirm in protest. She loosened her grip and stroked Nienor's hair, murmuring, "I'm sorry, dearest." Then she turned to look at Morwen, her eyes burning with suppressed rage. "They took Bereth out of the compound yesterday. One of Brodda's men wants to marry her. We've all known for a while; he's been after her for weeks. She had to say yes." By now she was nearly shouting. "Why can't they marry their own women?"

Alarmed, Morwen nevertheless forced herself to appear calm. "Aerin, have any of these men ever bothered you? The truth, please." Not that there was anything she could do about it if they had. Anger at her own powerlessness welled up inside her, and her hands clenched into fists under the table.

"Oh no," Aerin assured her, sounding bitter but sincere. "The men don't give me any trouble, because I'm tall and scrawny and ill-tempered. Most of them ignore me."

"Most?" Morwen said sharply.

Aerin shrugged. "Sometimes Brodda watches me while I work," she admitted. "The other girls have started to notice, and it makes them nervous. But I don't think it means anything. Whenever one of them is interested in a girl, he's never shy about talking to her or touching her. Brodda's never even gotten near me."

A deep sense of foreboding suddenly ran through Morwen, and she had to suppress a shudder. She watched the tall, slender girl with the radiant golden hair making faces at little Nienor, her anger and anxiety momentarily soothed by the toddler's laughter.

Aerin was tough and Aerin was stubborn and occasionally Aerin was a little reckless, but in the end she was a fifteen-year-old girl and a slave. What could possibly await her in life besides pain and disappointment?

"Aerin?" she asked. The girl turned to look at her. "Why don't you stay here? We could use a good pair of hands to help us get through the winter." _And Brodda's household is no place for a girl like you._

Aerin's face fell, and she let go of Nienor, placing the little girl back on the ground despite her protests. "I can't," she said. "I'm sorry, Morwen. They would realize I was gone, and what would happen to my father then? He might be tortured, or killed. And what would happen to you and Nienor if they found out where I was hiding?"

Before Morwen could respond, Aerin stood up and took the axe down from the wall. "I'll go and get that firewood now," she said, her face stubbornly set, avoiding Morwen's eyes. "Tell Sador and Ragnir I say hello."

Scooping up Nienor, Morwen carried the child with her as she followed Aerin to the door. Nienor clung to her silently, her small fingers tangled up in Morwen's dark hair, and watched the older girl's retreating back with wide blue-grey eyes.

"When you've finished, come and have a meal with us!" Morwen called after her.

Aerin didn't stop walking, but she turned and back and shouted, "You can't afford to feed me; the Incomers can! It's the least they could do for all the trouble they've caused!" Then she continued down the narrow forest path, kicking at the undergrowth as she went.

Morwen watched her go until even her shining hair was no longer visible among the dark trees.


End file.
